Summary: Beneath his
fingertips he can feel blood, warm and essential, coursing through
her veins. "You leave me absolutely exhausted."

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"I'll race you to
the car!"

She's faster than
him, but he'll just say he let her win (if anyone asks). When he
catches up to her, she's leaning against a nondescript black sedan,
looking towards the sky. He sincerely hopes she doesn't plan to
start waxing poetic about the solar system.

"I used to look at
the sky all the time when I was younger."

He settles against the
car, deciding whether he should cut her off or let her speak. She
doesn't say anything else, and he never did like sitting still.

"And now you don't?"

"No."

"Well, there must be
a reason."

Looking at him, she has
the urge to slap the brim of his hat so it covers his eyes. Instead
she looks away, and smiles into her shoulder.

"I wanted to know
what was up there. It was a mystery. But now I know why the sky is
blue and why stars are in fixed positions."

"Ah. So one could
say you like mysteries. The exhilaration of the unknown."

Flinging hair over her
shoulder, "Yes," clears her throat, "but now tell me something
about you."

Brief pause, then "I've
had this deep-seated hatred of rabbits ever since-"

She gives his shoulder
a shove, it's not hard but was unexpected, and he drops his cane.

He glances at his cane
on the ground, and then to her.

"I didn't know you
were prone to violence. You must be fun at parties."

She bends down and
picks up his cane, but doesn't give it back to him.

"Can't you give me
a straight answer?"

"But this way is more
fun."

Waving his cane in the
air between them, "You're not getting this back until you tell me
something about yourself. I told you something, it's only fair."

"Damn, I left my
spare cane in my other pants."

He makes a half-hearted
grab for his cane, but to no avail.

"If I'd known
beforehand that you wanted to interrogate me, I would've brought my
lawyer."

"Dr. House, I mean-"

"It's Greg. It
rolls off of the tongue quite nicely."

"Greg …"

"I love it when you
say my first name. Gives me chills."

No reaction, but her
eyes give her away. "Greg."

Her cheeks are slightly
red from the cold weather, and he pretends that doesn't matter.

"You're not off the
hook. Tell me something, it can be anything."

Pretending to brush
something off of his jacket, he turns towards the car, "I like to
read … sometimes."

She grins and he
realizes he's losing a game he didn't know he was playing.

"Read what?"

"Books."

He attempts to grab his
cane from her again, but succeeds only in grabbing her wrist. He
doesn't let go.

"That wasn't so
hard, was it?"

Beneath his fingertips
he can feel blood, warm and essential, coursing through her veins.
"You leave me absolutely exhausted."

"You don't look
tired."

"It's a clever
ruse. My cane, please?"

Shaking her head, "No.
One more."

"Spit it out."

"Who's your
favorite author, and why?"

"Isn't this an SAT
question?"

She taps him on the
chest with his cane. "Humor me."

"Aren't I always
doing that?"

"I'm waiting."

Mumbling, "Ernest
Hemingway."

"Why?"

"The way he writes.
Terse. He uses words sparingly. Straight to the point, there's no
pretty language to sift though. He's made short, declarative
sentences into an art from."

"Wow."

Furrowed brow, "Wow
what?"

She grins, and offers
him his cane. He doesn't take it. "That's the most you've
ever said to me without using sarcasm."

"I'm sure it was
purely accidental," he takes the cane.

Quirking an eyebrow, "I
don't think anything you do is accidental."

"Only I get to be a
smart ass."

"Some people might be
put off by never ending sarcasm, you know."

"And?"

"You don't worry
that people won't like you?"

"Trying to get people
to like you is a sign of mediocrity."

"What isn't a sign
of mediocrity?"

Fingers still wrapped
around her wrist, he tugs her to him. She's close enough to see
the fine lines in the skin on his face; history by epidermis.

"Buying your boss a
cup of coffee."

She smiles, eyelashes
brushing his face, "What if I don't drink coffee this late at
night?"

"I don't either,"
his voice lowers, "but let's pretend."

"Okay."

She moves to get into
the car, and he lets go of her wrist. For now.

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